


Case #0151210: Bone Shards

by mewzilla



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bone Fragments, Canon-Typical Horror, Statement Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-19 12:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22111108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewzilla/pseuds/mewzilla
Summary: Statement of Amanda Hollaway regarding the detritus left behind by her flatmate Victoria Lee following her disappearance.
Kudos: 1





	Case #0151210: Bone Shards

**Author's Note:**

> Statement recorded in the Season 1 timeframe. A non-binary character is misgendered once toward the end by an asshole.

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_Statement of Amanda Hollaway regarding the detritus left behind by her flatmate Victoria Lee following her disappearance. Original statement given twelfth October, two thousand fifteen. Statement recorded by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London._

_Statement Begins._

So I’m not quite certain what I’m supposed to say, where I’m supposed to start. I mean, Vic--uh, right, full names so you can investigate, Victoria (I’m sorry, Vic, I know you hate that) Lee my on-again-off-again sweetie--was never the easiest person to be with, I mean be with in the sense of a relationship, mostly. Vic was always sort of sharp and prickly, personality-wise. And not very cuddly, physically. Which, you know, I could deal with most of the time, but sometimes it was rough because we both wanted...needed...different things when it came to comfort, and, like, love languages and what a stupid phrase that is.

Vic stopped sleeping with me--I cannot believe I am telling you this.. . I’d given Vic a gift certificate for a spa day, which, maybe wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done, looking back on it, but I can’t undo that now. Vic came back from the spa looking amazing, but everything was weird after that.

We stopped sleeping together that night. Maybe we broke up? I’m really not sure. Vic would do that sort of thing sometimes, just, get more distant that normal, sleep in their bed in their bedroom. And, like, I was okay with that most of the time. I knew Vic loved me.

At least...I _thought_ Vic loved me?

Even at their prickliest, they seemed like they had a soft spot for me and the dorky face I’d make at them over coffee?

Anyway, I guess things had been getting rougher at work and Vic had been pretty miserable and stressed, and pricklier than usual.

I know touching is, well, touch-and-go for Vic—more go than the other—but I also know that Vic dated that massage dude for a few months and never said anything about hating it? Like, Vic talked about being his “crash test dummy” or maybe it was “stunt customer”? I don’t know. Point is, Vic never said “I hate massages and will never have one.”

So I went and found a local place, and found a deal on-line, and gave it to Vic, told them to take a day off, relax, the world wasn’t going to burn if they were out of the office for one sodding day.

I half expected Vic to fight more about it, but they told me that if I wanted them to do it so badly, then _I_ should make the appointment. Maybe Vic thought I’d call it off there because I _hate_ talking on the phone. But I sucked it up, and I called, and took their first available appointment.

Vic went. And I thought that was going to be the end of it.

But something happened, I think?

Vic was different after. Like, they didn’t _look_ different, but they were... pricklier than before, and I swear I didn’t know that was possible.

And, like I said, they stopped sleeping in my bed with me. I know it sounds like maybe I’m just trying to make myself feel better, but it really was the sort of thing Vic would do sometimes. Like they just needed a little more space for a night or two. Needed to know that they weren’t going to be touched. And, at first, I was okay with the whole thing.

But after a month, I got lonely. Vic wouldn’t talk to me about, like, anything. When I tried to get them to tell me what was wrong, they just brought up the spa and told me that nothing was right anymore and how could I just sit there and look at them and not see it, not see how _wrong_ it all had gone.

I don’t know what I was supposed to see. Vic looked great; Vic always looked great. That’s not just me being hot for Vic, either, I swear. Vic looked great. I have no idea what they wanted me to see, and they wouldn’t _tell me_. Like it should be obvious and I was just too dense.

And then they moved their stuff out of my bedroom, too. All of it. I guess that was the actual break-up?

We didn’t talk much after that, or, rather, Vic didn’t talk much. I tried to give them space. But they still lived there In my flat, so I couldn’t avoid them, and they couldn’t avoid me. There was only the one bathroom.

I think they started drinking, maybe. I know I was tempted to.

And then there were the toothpicks. They were in the bathroom now and then. In the shower. On the floor, the counter. Not like, everywhere, not all of the time, but sometimes.

They were really sharp.

I asked Vic about them; I knew they weren’t _mine_.

Vic just stared at me as if I was stupid and said in the coldest, deadest voice I’d ever heard come out of their mouth, “They aren’t toothpicks.”

When I pressed, asked what they were then, Vic just shook their head and went back into their room, locked the door. The click of it was so loud.

Do you know what it’s like living with someone you love, sitting right across the table from them and watching them eat porridge and drink coffee like you aren’t even there?

It sucks. It sucks so badly.

What sucks worse is that when Vic finally seemed to see me again, they went missing.

I don’t know what changed, but one night, after dinner, Vic touched my arm and apologized, told me it wasn’t my fault, said that they loved me. Then they gave me the longest hug. I felt like I was cocooned by it. Vic’s arms wrapped around me perfectly, their body molded against mine which sounds cheesy as hell, but for a moment, everything was perfect.

I thought that we were okay. That... everything... was going to be okay.

Vic finally drew back, kissed my forehead, then said they had to go get something from the Tesco and asked did I need anything. I Shook my head and they left the flat wearing that ridiculous velvet cloak draped awkwardly over their shoulders.

And...they never came back. That was the last time I saw them.

I can’t tell you how many times I texted, called, but nothing. Message after message after message delivered, and nothing. I called Vic’s mum, but she hadn’t seen Vic since Easter Sunday. Which, I guess shouldn’t have surprised me; Vic’s relationship with their mum was...strained.

After a few weeks, Vic’s boss started calling the landline, left messages on the answering machine. Yes, I still have a landline, no I have no idea why, but I guess I’m glad of it now? When I gave in and called Vic’s boss, he said he hadn’t seen Vic and if-slash-when I did, that I should tell Vic that _she_ was fired. He hung up before I could correct him. 

I totally see why Vic hated that guy.

I didn’t know what else to do, so I filed a report with the police. An inspector came to my flat--I, I don’t remember her name--and asked if I’d gone through Vic’s things. I told her I hadn’t and showed her into Vic’s room.

It was a mess. Not, like, dirty clothes and bowls half full of dried porridge mess. I’ve had plenty of flat mates before and that sort of mess would have been...normal.

The mess in Vic’s room was not a normal mess.

Those toothpicks were everywhere, a layer of them scattered over the bed between shredded sheets and duvet. There were pillows punctured with them like eviscerated pincushions, tufts of stuffing on the floor.

Some of the toothpicks were short as my pinkie finger. Some of the toothpicks were as long as my hand. Some of them were longer.

The inspector looked...unsettled? She muttered something about not getting sectioned, then made a call, and next I knew, my flat’s a full on crime scene and I’m spending more time than I care to think about answering questions about when I last saw Vic and where I was and what I do, like I’m some kind of criminal.

Turns out those toothpicks weren’t toothpicks. They...were shards of bone. Human bone.

They eventually let me go and now, to top everything off, I’m couch surfing and I hate it. Though I guess it’s better than being alone in my flat.

Look, I just...I don’t think Vic’s a killer--which is the theory that the police are working on now that they’ve decided that _I_ probably hadn’t killed Vic--and I just want Vic back, and for everything to be okay between us.

Is...is that weird? That’s...that’s probably weird.

_Statement Ends._

_Well. This statement certainly ties together with case #0152303, though I don’t know what to make of it._

_Sasha reached out to Ms Hollaway to confirm her statement. Ms Holloway had seemed startled and nervous when Sasha brought up her statement, and without prompting reiterated that she has not seen her flatmate since the night that they went to the Tesco. Ms Holloway had no new insights into this case._

_Tim worked his magic--and I hate to think what sort of magic that might have been, bribery would perhaps be preferable to other alternatives, but even that doesn’t bear thinking over for too long--and got his hands on the police records for the Victoria Lee missing persons case. It seems that testing on all of the bone fragments indicated they came from a single human source, and that the source matched Victoria Lee’s DNA. The problem, the report goes on to indicate, is that one human body does not have enough bones to account for the sheer quantity of fragments retrieved from Ms Hollaway’s flat. There was no evidence of blood or foul play in Ms Hollaway’s flat, and the case has remained a missing persons case rather than an open murder investigation. I understand the lack of a body can sometimes make a murder investigation difficult especially if no one wants to consider where the extra bone might have come from._

_I cannot speculate about the status of Victoria Lee, but I’ve asked Martin to keep an eye out for any other statements referencing Vic, Victoria Lee, or bone...toothpicks. Given the state of the archives, if there are other statements there’s no guarantee that we’ll find them in a timely fashion._

_Recording Ends._

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End file.
